From Rob's Point of view.

July 11, 2011

Greetings. This is Robert, Clayton’s stateside partner. I am eagerly anticipating his homecoming in less than 8 weeks! I just completed a week-long experience called “Live Like a PCV,” which I would like to share with you (http://www.livelikeapcv.org/ ). This was something I did to honor and better understand Clayton’s service.

For 7 days (July 4-10) I gave up: eating at restaurants, hot water, use of the dishwasher, temperature control (aka air conditioning), and television. Here are some of my thoughts and experiences from the week:

1. Giving up eating at restaurants was an inconvenience because I am on the road all day for work and it is SO EASY to stop at wonderful places like Subway or Tropical Smoothie Cafe. However, this actually aligned with my personal goal of eating healthier. Also, let's face it, preparing food from home is cheaper. Having multiple sources of motivation for this goal was helpful.

2. The lack of hot water, however, was more intrusive. I did not shut off the hot water to the entire house since I have a housemate who would have been affected, so I simply disciplined myself not to turn the faucets to “hot”. (Though, out of habit, my hand went for it many times!) I was annoyed by the fact that I was not using warm water to wash my hands (“Really? I’m risking germs for this challenge??”). However, I am pleased to say I did not get sick. I REALLY HATED cold showers. I can’t emphasize this enough. The physical state of being that makes me the most uncomfortable is being COLD and WET. I was really a wuss: I would aim the shower head straight down, soap up a limb, then gingerly – quickly – stick it in the stream to be rinsed off.

3. Refraining from using the dishwasher was not too much of a hardship; since I only prepared food for myself, there wasn’t much to wash. HOWEVER, combining this with item #2 was a little ridiculous: if I wanted hot water in the sink I had to heat it on the stove. The first few days I washed my dishes immediately. The last few days they collected in the sink and were washed on day #7 day #8. J

4. Temperature control. This rule applied to both home and car, but the car was not an issue since the air conditioning in my Vue had quit about a week prior. L At home, I did not use fans, but I did master the art of opening windows. You see, it is not as simple as having them open all of the time: there is a strategy. I discovered that for the daytime it actually made more sense to keep them closed. This way the house would stay slightly cooler than the outside: opening them would just let the hot air in. Evening and night-time, however, the windows were definitely open! I wore fewer clothes to bed and used less covers, if any. I had a beautiful experience one night of waking up to a storm. My immediate reaction was to close the windows of course, but when I went to do so I felt the most wonderful thing: the air was so cool coming in it was like air conditioning! So… what to do?? I sat for a moment, with the cool air hitting my face, then sadly closed the windows most of the way, and went back to sleep. Also, 2 lbs of frozen grapes were a nice treat to help me cope with a hot house.

5. Giving up the television wasn’t a big deal in terms of actually watching shows (after all, NCIS and Bones are in re-runs anyway!) HOWEVER, I have been using a series of workout dvds (yes, I will use this opportunity to give a shameless plug for P90X!) and no tv meant no P90X! How was I to work out without Tony Horton? I decided that I would do what I could from what I remembered of the routines. However, let’s not forget #4: I also did not have air conditioning! The heat REALLY decreased my motivation. Needless to say my workout while “living like a PCV” was not as thorough as usual. Also, I realized how much of a habit watching the television while I was eating had become. It felt awkward sitting in the livingroom with my cereal, staring at the dogs. They were not very good conversationalists.

As I write this, the air conditioner has been turned back on. Simply setting it at 79 feels like a luxury.

Initially, the list of items to give up didn’t look daunting, but that is because I didn’t realize how inter-related they were (as mentioned above). They were also far-reaching. For example, I did not give up the use of my stove/oven for this challenge, but did I really want to use the oven with the house already so hot?

Some of these may lead to permanent changes: for example, I may decide I don’t need the air conditioning at night. The lack of hot water, however, will not be permanent. I have resumed using it and it is not being relinquished again any time soon!

Doing the week was only part of the commitment. I also agreed to share my experience with others. This blog is my first step. I also plan to talk about it at church this fall.

I originally signed up for this mainly as a show of support for Clayton, and less for myself. After all, did I *really* need another illustration of what life has been like for him? I have been in close contact with him for his 2 years, and he has shared with me the struggles and joys of service. Plus, last fall I visited him in Benin for 2 weeks. The truth is, however, that I did learn quite a bit, as you’ve read. What these folks are doing serving abroad is incredible, and for those of us back home, there is no such thing as “too much” understanding!

Total eclipse of my heart.

On June 15, 2011 was the longest, brightest total lunar eclipse of the century. "Of the century." What once held special meaning to me is now a taunting phrase; a big, whiney AHH HAA.

Before I start, I should say that my first sign of failure was the abnormal heat and humidity, in comparision of the previous 2 weeks.

I told the guard to cut the electricity to eliminate all external light sources from interfering with my shots. I managed to build a stable "tripod" for my camera out of a stool, and books--it was actually pretty decent.

Pitch black all around me, I look through the view finder to find the moon. Found. I focus, or do what I think is focusing, and take the shot. Not focused. Refocus, try again, take the shot, fail. This cycle continued on for about a half an hour but I was content because the moon wasn't going anywhere and the electricity was cut. I got to play around with a few of the camera settings and test out different strategies.

Then, horror. The electricity was turned back on by the power company. Imagine: the workstation power cut and everyone house around with electricity has it's lights turned on. The effect was awful fluorescent light cast across the workstation courtyard. This made focusing even harder because my eyes had to adjust and readjust to the darkness of the viewfinder everytime I took them away from it.

I never did successfully focus the lens. Trying to look through the view finder at black sky with a dimly lit moon in pitch black is just beyond me. So is the more irritating circumstance of trying to take a picture in darkness with cast lights all around.

Point of irony: in western, undeveloped Africa, while taking a picture of the night sky, electricity was my ultimate undoing. My biggest enemy. My arch nemesis. Would it not be for the Wii gaming system waiting for me or for guitar hero (or Robert), I would be bold enough to publicly denounce the use of electricity. But alas, I love The New Super Mario World for Wii too much.

These photos are of the full eclipse and then the un-eclipsing of the moon. They are the best I could do. They aren't great but I think another eclipse like this will happen in 18 years. Hopefully it's viewable from North America :)

Next assignment: Lightning.

Long Time no See!

Oh yes, it's been a while since I've posted. Sorry. Time is flying. Like every other Peace Corps Volunteer who's maintained a blog, I now too will say that the months are passing by and I am NEARING THE END OF MY SERVICE.

Just typing that makes me smile. When I'm done. I will have been a real-life Peace Corps Volunteer.

And now that I'm pretty well adjusted to Benin, I can say that not too much has happened. Neither exciting nor interesting events have occurred.

Really, I was just waiting for something "blog worthy." I can only blog about the heat, the rain, flowers, and food so many times before it becomes boring. Like a reporter, I was looking for something new and fresh. Something that would take my readers by surprise. Something that would make you say "just when he thought he'd experienced everything..."

Well ladies and gentelment. For your viewing pleasure, I submit this photo.

A few notes: the creature is actually bigger than it appears in the picture. It was AT LEAST a solid 6 inches :: Um... maybe more like 4- but it was 4 inches SQUARE! :: That was Glenna, a friend of mine visiting from the South who got to behold the sight of this creature. We disagree on size but not on presence. ::It was totally there; it was enormous!:: Glenna again.

Glenna is a fellow teacher and is currently on vacation. She decided to come up to Nati to peacefully pass her vacation with me. Tuesday night, we decided to make egg rolls (from scratch and they were delicious) and duck sauce (also really delicious). Making the duck sauce required honey which was in my house. I left the back of the workstation, descended the steps and happened to glance up and BAM. There this thing was. Just sitting there on the front wall of my house. It was so big, it looked like it could talk. I (quite literally in my temporary insanity) expected it to say "Hello there, Clayton." In a smooth, Sean Connery-esque voice.

I tell you, it was the first time I truly felt absolute fear and revoltion in my heart at something created by nature. In that moment, I experienced an overwhelming since of personal offense. Nature had created that bug and it had found it's way to the wall of my house to personally piss me off. I felt that I must've done something horrible and karma was saying "Hey Clay! Stop being such an asshole!" I had all sorts of mean thoughts about how assholish nature can be. Here, in front of me, was a 6 inch (4 inches according to Glenna) creature on my wall.

All I could do was stand there in pure horrified shock, turn around, walk into the house and inform everyone that we would not be making duck sauce because I couldn't get into my house.

Of course everyone flocked to see what the commotion was about and I felt validated when 6 other people were as horrified as I was. The immediate plan was to destroy the creature but in the end, I said we shouldn't because it wasn't harming me physically even though it had harmed my sense of security in the world. We left it alone and when I came back outside a few hours later it was gone. No, that did not make me feel better. When something that hideous disappears it creates more fear and panic because the awful truth is that I would rather sit and stare at it to know where it was and what it was doing than to not have any clue AT ALL.

P.S. MW, please excuse the language. What the fuck is it?

Found Nemo...

And decided to eat him.

I have now killed with my own two hands, and prepared something that flies--the chicken (yes I'm using the world flies very, very liberally)--and something that swims--the fish. Now all that is left is something that walks or....hops >). Where are you Peter Cottontail?

Pictures!

Touristy things.

Just a few photos. I went to visit tatasombas with another volunteer in a village relatively close to Natitingou. Tatasombas are a style of housing built by local people. The houses are made of mud, 2 stories with a roof that is used for storing food, shelter and other things that I don't remember or am not sure of. We took zems to and fro and although I was cursing the heavens the entire ride back, it was pretty neat to see the tatas and I got a few good shots of local people in the village of Bakoumbe.

Gay ol' Paris.

On the way back to Benin, I stopped in Paris for a week with another volunteer who was traveling and coming back the same time I was.

Before becoming a Peace Corps Volunteer, I had never traveled abroad so this time in Paris, I did all the tourist-y things: Eiffel Tower, The Louvre, Arc de Triomphe.

Just a few pictures.

...But you can't take America out of the boy...

In December, I traveled for 24 solid hours to go home for a visit (sitting in an airport for 5 hours does in fact count as travel). It was pretty fun, great to see family.

It is so true that every person handles their re-introduction to the States differently. Some volunteers said they felt weird when they went home--I felt normal. I didn't feel like an outsider, estranged, apart, separate or anything of the sort.

However, I did feel aware.

I knew the moment I got on the plane in Paris to Fly into Philadelphia that I was on a plane full of Americans. I heard two distinct things I hadn't heard in 18 months: rude conversation and loud and rowdy children.

Everything in Africa runs at a slower pace, even the conversations. In Benin the first part of any conversation you have is usually a greeting followed by a question and answer period during which you ask about someone's day, their children, their spouse, their work, their health, their animals, if the force is with them, how long it takes Jupiter to rotate around the sun, how many moons Mercury has, and the square of 28,25o,509. As you might guess, conversations last a bit longer here and while the Beninese aren't always beacons of politeness or socially acceptable behavior, they will at least ask about every aspect of your life including whether or not you want to marry their baby girl (if you're male) and if you can loan them money, before they let you buy a soda from them. Having been in Benin for nearly 19 months now, I've become so accustomed to this conversational dance that I value it as an integral part to any social interaction. There's something satisfying about asking someone about the health of their children and how work is going for them.

So you can imagine my shock when, as I was sitting on the airplane getting comfortable, the flight attendant came up to me and asked if I needed anything before promptly walking away. Why didn't he want to know about my stomach, my eyes, my left big toe, and my courage?

I was even more offended when, while checking on other passengers, he simply said "hello, do you need anything?" Why didn't he ask about their kids, their spouse, their health, and their work?

And so, I immediately and even a bit righteously concluded that Americans are rude. The point of all those national jokes about rugged unrefined Americans suddenly became clear to me. We don't spend 20 minutes asking someone about how their digesting their food, their patience level, or the hair follicle on their left thigh right above the knee. And we are declassé because of it.

About the loud and rowdy children.

It's true that the workstation is next to an orphanage and often times the children howl at all hours of the night sometimes for hours on end. Wailing, wailing wailing. But you know what Beninese children don't do: they don't run around screaming in joy at top of their voices on airplanes. I've ridden in taxis for 9 people, stuffed with 15, and 3 small children who don't utter a peep the entire ride. Nevermind that at 3 and 4 they're still breast-feeding (usually why they aren't talking), they're quiet. I maintain that there is a difference between the howling of twelve African children and the shrill screams of 2 year old American children. Eventually, it dawned on me that American parents bargain way too much with their kids. I haven't heard "darling, don't you want to sit down now? Please sit down." in 18 months and when I did, I thought "that bargaining is why our American children grow up and believe so strongly in their autonomy as humans. People don't like big goverment because it's like the concerned, attentive, non-bargaining parent they never had. Big government says "do _____ now" to people who grew up with "do you want to do _____now?" Don't you see U.S. government: you have to start asking people if they want to do things. Do this, and you too will be as successful as the pleading airplane parents whose kids ran up and down the aisle THE ENTIRE 8 HOURS OF FLIGHT FROM FRANCE TO THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA.

Well, I noticed a lot of things when I went back to America. For instance the number of people in drive-thrus and their.....size....or just how much of a gem Target is (I love you), the awesomeness of real milk not that French stuff that can sit in heat for months on end and not spoil, good chocolate, fast internet and...TV!! But, what I most noticed was that I was still American and loved consuming :)

Post Pastimes

Alright, sorry I didn't post anything in the month of November. I got really busy with things.

Here's what I've been up to:

PCV Pest Control

Recently, I've noticed an offensive amount of termites in the kitchen of the workstation at night time. Last night, Veronica (my new postmate) and I decided to investigate. What did we find you ask? That termites had made a home behind an outlet, in the wall, in the kitchen.

Well that

couldn't stand. Bug spray in hand, we attacked the outlet...doused it really, in aerosol bug spray. Pretty sure that all I have to do is point at bugs and the residue bug spray on my index finger would kill anything in it's path.

What happened next is definitely somebody's worst nightmare. Termites began (quite literally) to pour out of the outlet. I realized that the bug spray must attack their nervous system because it looked like they were going crazy, convulsing and curling up into little termite-balls. A small part of me felt bad until I remembered that one time at post when a termite bit me. Yes, bit me.

Their death was very kamikaze-esque. They'd come out of outlet and dive into the sink, practically jump off of the outlet.

For those of you who know me, you won't be surprised that I decided to fumigate other parts of the kitchen now that I had the guts to face and kill insects. I was on a roll, why stop?

For some time, I had noticed that bugs were going in and out of drawers where we keep powered milk, sugar, flower (in containers of course) so Veronic and I decided to investigate. This part was actually gross because roaches are my weakness. We cleaned out a drawer and sprayed bug spray at nothing in particular--just to see what would happen. There were more bugs than we thought.

We decided to take the whole drawer outside, dump everything and stomp on whatever crawled away. Seemed like a good idea until the big roaches came out.

Can someone please tell me why a cockroach needs to be 2-3 inches long? I mean, that serves no biological purpose. Spiders eat insects, snakes eat insects and small animals, ants even eat insects; they all serve a purpose. What purpose does a 3 inch cockroach serve? Hm? The only plausible reason for the existence of a roach that size is for the sole purpose to be disgusting. I love nature, I really do, but like most other things I love in this world there are parts of it that seriously, seriously irritate me.

In any case, the guard heard us shrieking, yes I shrieked, and came over to help us kill the roaches.

We had ourselves a roach stomping fest.

No worries though. Just all part of the job. I'm going to be so brave when I get home. Those puney American cockroaches won't mean anything to me. Score!

To answer your questions (which I like by the way. More, more!!) : I am pretty much always that creative although I'm not sure it took creativity so much as the ability to use a ruler, pen and markers to color to create the monopoly board.

In regards to my weight, I'm a solid 70 kilos. That's where the scale goes everytime. I think this is roughly 154 lbs and I've seemed to level out here. Parasites, I assume they're gone. All the plumbing runs smoothly, wink wink.

And finally, yes I can use satellite internet here at the workstation. It was recently installed and it's amazing. All we need know is a hot water heater. Of course if we get that we go from Peace Corps to Posh Corps ;)

Monopoly in Benin

Robert and I were playing Monopoly virtually every day before I came to Benin. It's only natural that he should bring the pieces to play here. I made this board from cardboard and markers.

I haven't lost any of my skill. I'm still the champion of Monopoly ;)

The Adventures of Rob and Clay: The Case of the Heavily Flawed Mousetrap

12:30 a.m. the other night, I go into my kitchen to brush my teeth and what do I see: a mouse scurrying from one floor cabinet to the next. Recently, Robert and I saw it dart from under my bed into my "closet area" but couldn't find it--or kill it. Naturally, I was irritated and said outloud, "this ends tonight!"
I called for Robert...

I came immediately, closing the door to the bedroom behind me and barricaded the entryway to the kitchen with a marker board. I perched myself atop a stool to assess the situation as...

I began to remove almost everything from the cabinet in which the mouse was hiding, saying curses the whole time. After removing everything I proded the gas bottle in the cabinet, connected to my stove. The mouse shot from the cabinet to another gas bottle beside my sink. In the bottom of the gas tank are small holes that I decided to tape up to trap the mouse inside/underneath but I needed tape so...

I retrieved a roll of packing tape from my suitcase (why would I have packing tape in my suitcase? that is irrelevant to this story). Remembering the sticky mouse traps from home - in which the creature was cruelly stuck until it perished - I put a strip of tape along the outside of the doorway to the bedroom, and to the kitchen. Then...

I taped the holes in the bottom of the gas bottle. Of course, by this time, Robert and I forgot that we needed to watch the gas bottle the whole time so I wasn't sure the mouse was still there so Robert brought me a flashlight and upon inspection I saw two beady eyes.

Now we had it trapped but we didn't know how to kill it or get it outside or anything: we were stuck; trapped if you will, by our own machinations.

I was willing to free the mouse so I wanted to get it into a trash can. To do this I decided to turn the trash can on it's side and tape folders to it and the gas bottle, creating a little tunnel that would guide the mouse. Meanwhile...

I once again turned to my favorite intervention, the packing tape. I taped the folders to the trash can--and all over the floor in the kitchen--so they would not fall. However, after lengthy discussion - including much doubt - about how this would unfold, we changed plans completely.

Outloud, I pointed out that if we had a trash bag we could justslip the gas tank into it to guarantee that the mouse wouldn't get away. Robert said "I have a trash bag." (why would Robert have a trash bag? that is not relevant to this story.)
We slid the bag under and over the gas tank. "On the count of 3", I said, "you will lift the gas tank and I'll close the bag."
FAIL.
The gas tank was too heavy to lift quickly and there was a huge hole in the bag from sliding it under the gas tank. The mouse ran away. The tape at the doorways didn't phase it.

You might be forlorn, Reader, with how this tale ends. I'm sure from the start you assumed our complex enterprise would eventually prove to be a success. However, the moral of this story lies not in the outcome, but...

In my willingness to set the mouse free. The true moral of the story is: when a mouse is in your house and you catch it, you must kill it. I should've just lifted the gas bottle and crushed the mouse with it.

Jus d'orange

A month ago, I promised pictures and recipes for food volunteers make here.

Here at the Natitingou Workstation, we have a lemon tree, a banana tree, and an orange tree.

From the lemon tree volunteers can make: key "lime" pie, lemonade, lemon merangue pie, lemon bars, citrus french vanilla ice cream and marinades that require lemon juice. From the banana tree volunteers can make: banana bread, banana waffles/pancakes, banana beignes (ben-yays) and so on. And from the orange tree volunteers can make: orange juice, orange icing, and probably orange marmalade if they (I) knew how.

I'm sure for each fruit there's a ton more things that could be made.

The other day, I decided to make fresh squeezed orange juice which is, believe it or not, a true testament to my ingenuity. We have these trees here but they do not get used very often. They just smell good and prick you when you grab the branches (except the banana tree). Usually, we just stare at the trees and comment on how much fruit there is and how big it is. Baffling.

To make fresh squeezed orange juice, I simply remembered the Florida Orange Juice commercial. You know, "18 oranges squeezed into every box."

Lies, lies, lies.

I squeezed 18 huge, juicy oranges and got MAYBE 5 jarsfull (jars that were filled with jelly, that we use to drink from) of juice.

It took 2+ cups of water plus 1/2+ cups of sugar to make it taste like "orange juice."

Fresh squeezed orange juice is good but the oil from the peels gets pressed into the juice giving it a bite and, at least in Africa, it's unavoidable. However, I can claim that my orange juice is 100% organic AND nature friendly. Those two qualities are not mutually exclusive. The orange tree is fertilized with a compost pile, the sugar was from sugar cane, I didn't destroy other plants to plant orange trees and I'm not owned by Coca Cola :)

Recipe
18 oranges

2+ cups water

1/2+ cup sugar
Might I just say: season to taste.

Enjoy!

...The things you'll see...

I promised I'd post some photos.

Here they are.

I haven't forgotten about the Lemonade recipe--I'm waiting to remember to take pictures of myself making it :D

The scenery is what I see when I walk outside of the workstation.

The spider.....I discovered today. What kind of spider is that? Why does it look fake? Can we talk about the suspiciously thick, yellow strand of web and can the spider kill me?

Responses welcome, I have to live with this thing.

Milk, Milk. Lemonade. Here in Nati, fudge is made.

After deep reflection, I've decided my blog's gotta change; it's gotta grow, evolve, become something. It's gotta do something; be something meaningful.

My life as PCVL is great but slightly less adventurous. I mean, who really wants to hear about how I had to go to the water company to pay the workstation's water bill 3 days in a row because the first day the cashier was sleeping on the floor and didn't want to get up to deal with me and the second day was the day before a holiday and the water company wanted to close at 10:30 because here in Benin every working day before a holiday is a half-day (it was somehow irrelevant that I was there at 10 o' clock, by the way). Who cares if I have to deal with questions like: should I increase our laundry lady's-- who only comes when she's asked, by the way--salary by 1 mille fcfa ($2) more a month even though volunteers have to pay her to do their laundry, and she's always sick?

Who cares, right? Heck aside from utterly absurd and therefore absolutely hilarious the daily, mundane experiences of my life can be--those things are irrelevant...except the tons of seeds I planted, that is not irrelevant and when the sprouts all push, I will photo document as with my garden at my old post.

So I've decided: aside from posting pictures of the garden, and maybe speaking about some of these hilarious experiences, I'll post recipes with pictures!!

As PCVL, I bake a lot. Why, my first day here I spent all day making chocolate chip cookies. When I say all day, I mean 6 solid hours. Yeah, all day. On a daily basis, I make key lime pie, ice cream--which is fun because I can experiment with flavors here and volunteers who haven't eaten anything that awesome in a year aren't concerened with flavor, and I'm adding cinnamon buns to the stock.

Here in Benin, we call these goodies Chez Chose La and there's a price to pay if you want to enjoy them. Not some moral price, aside from gorging yourself with their awesomeness and then feeling fat and sad, but a real monetary price. We use these funds to buy cool things like Hookah and the tabacco for it and ultimately ingredients to continue Chez Chose La.

Here at the workstation, we have an orange tree, and avacado tree (not yet producing), a lemon tree, and a mango tree. So, we always get at least one of the ingredients from right outside the door.

Frequently from friends and family at home, I hear "I wish I could experience what you're going through." or "Gosh, this experience is just so amazing, I can't begin to comprehend." And, food is so, so important. I can tell you, regardless of that disclaimer, that every Peace Corps Volunter in the world, worships good food. To give you an idea, no volunteer in Benin ever buys just one pack of 4 cookies or one slice of key lime pie when they come to the Natitingou Workstation. It's impossible. It's practically a religious experience when we bite into these non-starchy, non-bland, non-msg loaded, packed full of sweet deliciousness goodies. Food is here, like religion, both the bane of human existence but also the way to heavenly sweet salvation.

And so, I felt compelled to share this experience with you. I'll post the recipes with pictures and you can choose to indulge or not to indulge.

Mainly this is for fun :)

Tomorrow's recipe: Lemonade :)

An Attempt to Explain Away my Lack of Blogging

It's been a while since I blogged huh?

The past 4 weeks and some-odd days have been super busy for me. I came down to the south to work Stage (read: train the new volunteers, a.k.a. stagiers) in Porto Novo the capital city of Benin, August 5th.

I've been stuck in southern limbo ever since.

I worked two solid weeks of Stage then came back to Cotonou (40 minutes southwest of Porto Novo by taxi) and had my mid-service medical examination. Despite my 26 pound weight loss and a parasite living in my intestines, I'm in perfect health. My kidneys, liver, and blood are all normal.

Yeah, despite a parasite, I'm in perfect health. I'm not sure of the name of the parasite. The doctor old me in English but his French accent is thick. I'm pretty sure it had the word....blasphoma or something similar to it in the name....The name reminded me of a really complex form of cancer. But, when I asked if I needed to take something for it, the doctor said it wasn't serious and I'd be fine.

I assume my body will do it's thing.

I didn't think to ask if this could be the reason why I've lost so much weight.

Speaking of weight, I've gained 4 lbs :)

After mid-service, I went back to Porto Novo to work one last week (not the last week) of Stage. The TEFL stagiers are doing great. They're a good, level-headed (seemingly :)) group.

And now we're at today, September 5th.

Interesting facts:

I have been in Benin for just over 13 months, and am half way done with my service

In 23 days, I will have been a PCV for 1 year.

ROBERT WILL BE HERE SOON!

Okay, I'm pretty sure that's everything from then until now. Until next time.

I'll post some photos of things soon.

Beninese cheer.

Beninese cheer, at the camp. The boys taught us this.

There is espoir after all...

This past week, I participated in Camp Espoir; a camp for young boys aged roughly 12-15.

I was counselor/helper to the Red Team aka Les Tigres, les champions du camp! aka The Tigers, camp champions!

The boys participated in workshops designed to exopse them to topics that they would, excuse my certainty, otherwise never have the chance to discuss. We covered all topics including: gender roles, male/female health and sexuality and new types of courage. The over all theme of the camp was gender equality so all workshops included some kind of sketch or role play and discussion about the female experience.

I was so touched at how these boys who had rarely spent time reflecting on these issues, were so willing to explore them. During role plays with female parts they dressed up as females, and during discussions which often turned into debates they answered honestly and thought, well, thoughtfully.

The end of the camp was sad and almost drew tears when we read what some the boys had written on their feedback sheets.

"I want to thank the volunteers of Camp Espoir because I never knew that girls worried about so many things and now I know."

"I see now that girls can do all the things that boys can do and are equal to boys."

This coming from boys who are taught that it is okay to degrade women; that women are in no way equal to them; that women are, in a nutshell, here to serve food and produce children.

Awesome.

Around these parts.

3 of my students.

Can you see the arc en ciel (arc in sky, rainbow)?

What insect is that? It flies like a hummingbird and even looks like a mini hummingbird but is definitely an insect.

My Secret Garden: Raw

So, I recently begin shooting in RAW.
Merc (slang for Merci=thanks), MW.

More editing power. These pictures are the same old thing as before. Flowers and Insects around my garden.

I tried messing around with shutter to get a good shot of bees in action, pollinating a sunflower but I was only mildly successful.

The process is: focus, 1, 2, 3, hold your breath, focus again, wait for a good shot, snap, gasp for air with the sun at only 9 degrees beating down on your back.

Those bees as you can see are pretty tiny. They're smaller than flies and they buzz about that sunflower for roughly 9 hours a day.

Morbid nursery rhyme time.

There once lived 3 little pigs.
The 1st little pig snuck into Clay's yard (because I left the gate cracked--cracked!!) and decided to feast on Clay's plants.

Said the extremely irritated and fed up with wild animals Clay, "Little pig, Little pig don't come in!"

"I will if I want to because I roam around with no one to watch over me all day and my owners don't care if I destroy anyone's property. Besides I have hair on my chinny chin chin!" Replied the 1st little pig.

So, Clay took extra care to make sure his straw gate was always closed because, in the end, it was his fault that the 1st little pig snuck into his yard.

But the 2nd little pig, he was much more determined than his brother. He tried the gate.

"Little pig, little pig don't come in." Clay taunted from his bedroom, proud of himself for locking his gate.

But just then, Clay noticed that the 2nd little pig was still trying to get into his yard. He went to investigate.

To his absolute blindingly rageful extremely irritated and, now literally, fed up with wild animals horror, Clay saw the 2nd little pig trying to knock down his fence to get to his plants.

"I'll grunt, and I'll squeal, and I'll push your straw fence down!" Oinked the pig.

"Not if I have anything to do with it or by the hair on your chinny chin chin." Muttered Clay.

Clay walked over to the fence, made a noise to scare the pig but to his shock, the pig continued. This time, Clay picked up a stick and beat the fence, still the pig grunted and squealed and tried to push his fence down.

So, Clay did the only thing he could think of: paused to apologize to the universe, told himself he wasn't a bad person, and gave the pig a swift kick in the head through the fence.

That did the trick, the pig went squealing away.

Little did Clay know, and this is in large part due to the fact that he doesn't under stand Pig Latin, the pig was actually saying "I'll get my revenge. I swear by the hair on my chinny chin chin!"

The next day, literally THE NEXT DAY, Clay left his house, he securely locked his gate and looked back at his garden. He went about his village doing Peace Corps Volunteer things, and yes this included going to the market. When he arrived at his house he was happy to see that the gate was still securely locked, the fence seemed to suffer no damage. With a smile he opened the gate and what he saw next threw him into a great rage, so quickly in fact that he now, after some reflection, thinks he might be an emotionally unstable person.

There, across from him, on the other side of his garden, was nothing.

NOTHING! Nothing but the ragged bits of a plant his students had lovingly given to him, 2 fully grown and FINALLY BLOOMING cosmo plants that looked as if someone had gone over them with a lawn mower and a pushed-in fence. In the distance, he noticed, the 3rd little pig running away, squealing delightfully.

Instead of doing anything rash he said a few cursewords, wished the pig an awful death, and decided to reinforce this specific area of the fence with sticks. After staring at the fence, Clay realized that sticks wouldn't be strong enough. So, he decided to reinforce the fence with, you know what already, brick. Clay patiently staked the cosmos, praying to the flower growing gods to work their magic, and threw stones at any pig that came near his garden for the rest of the day.

And he is currenly living nervously ever after, waiting to see if the brick is in fact too strong for the 3 little pigs to knock down.

The End.

Notice my "care packages" section.

AND, my body thanks everyone for sending me delicious processed, American, goodies. [no sarcasm] My sanity thanks you for the seeds:D Also, my soul thanks you for your love<3

Around My House....

...is a misleading title because I bet you were thinking I'd be showing you the inside of my house! But, you should pay attention to the preposition of place that I used: around not inside. ;)

I decided to snap a few extra shots of what I could see from my porch. In that moment, the things I could see were: goats grazing, and really big beautiful puffy clouds. Also, there was an arc en ciel (rainbow, literally: arc in sky) but I couldn't get it to show on my camera.
Also, I can see shooting stars every night....those of you who want to see should take this however you want it to...just remember that if I had a tripod I could do night photography :):):):)

My Secret Garden: Flower Power

I'm gonna toot my own horn and say. Yes, these were taken by me, on manual setting and focus :)